


The Plastics

by SleeplessInGeneral



Category: Sanders Sides (Web Series)
Genre: I cannot tag, M/M, Mean girls Au, Valerie as Ms Norbury? Why yes indeed, established prinxiety, exactly what it says on the label, heavily based on the movie, ill keep tagging as i go along, might reference some songs from the musical in the future, same for picani being karen, yall can call me out on the remile but i swear it works and youll just have to wait to see how
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-05-23
Updated: 2018-05-27
Packaged: 2019-05-12 23:55:33
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,332
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/14738196
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/SleeplessInGeneral/pseuds/SleeplessInGeneral
Summary: "That one there, that's Emile Picani.""One of the dumbest- sorry, one of the slowest people you would ever meet.""Last year Thomas sat next to him in English. Now, he knows big words, but...""He asked me how to spell orange.""And that little one? That's Roman Prince.""He's totally rich because his dad invented Toaster Strudel, and totally famous because he's been in some shows.""Roman Prince knows everybody's business. He knows everything about everyone.""It's why his hair is so big. It's full of secrets.""And evil takes human form in Remy Campbell. Don't be fooled, because he may seem like your typical selfish, backstabbing, slut-faced hoebag, but in reality, he is so much more than that.""He's the queen bee. The star. Those other two are just his little workers.""Remy Campbell... how do I begin to explain Remy Campbell?"Or, in summary - "Beware of the Plastics."





	1. Phase 1 (Part 1)

**Author's Note:**

> Okay, so. I can't tell you exactly how or why I came up with this idea. But I posted about it last night on tumblr (@fluidityandgiggles, if anyone wants to look me up) and spent half of today writing phase one...
> 
> And then I hit max length.
> 
> But... yeah. This exists now. And is very heavily based on the movie and its script.
> 
> For your consideration - Logan as Cady, Patton as Aaron (with a bit more personality), Virgil as Janis, Thomas as Damian, Remy as Regina, Roman as Gretchen, Emile as Karen (yes, I know, but trust me on this one) and Deceit as Kevin (not pair the spares, just a thing that really works with the prinxiety backstory I've got going on).
> 
> Anyway, if y'all are ready for the ride,  
> Allons-y!

I guess it's natural for parents to cry on their kid's first day of school, but that is usually when the kid is five. I'm sixteen and, until this day, I was homeschooled.

Now, I know what you're thinking. Homeschooled kids are freaks. Or that we're weirdly religious or something. But my family is totally normal!

…except for the fact that both my parents are research zoologists, and we've spent the last 12 years in Africa.

I had a great life! Until my mom got offered tenure at Northwestern University. So it was goodbye, Africa.

…and hello, high school.

I was almost run over by a bus on my first day of school, and that was only the first in a long,  _long_  conga line of mishaps and nightmares. The list also includes having embarrassed myself in front of a fellow student, almost sitting at several desks I most certainly did not want to sit at (at least, as I was told by the purple-haired emo with several piercings who kept laughing at me), causing my teacher to pour her coffee on herself, having to eat lunch in the bathroom, and most embarrassingly, the following incident:

The headmaster came to my class to let everyone know that "we have a new student joining us. He just moved here all the way from Africa. Welcome!"

All the guy the teacher pointed out (I found out later his name is Jamahl, and he is a very nice person) could say was "I'm from Michigan."

Embarrassing or not, you decide.

"His name is Logan. Logan Clark. Where are you, Logan?"

"That's… me."

All in all, my first day of school was a blur. A stressful, surreal blur. I got in trouble for the most random things, like having to go to the bathroom. I had never lived in a world where adults didn't trust me, where they were always yelling at me.

I had a lot of friends in Africa. But so far, none in Evanston.

By the second day I already knew where to sit and where not to sit, so I took the seat next to a guy wearing a letterman jacket.

Who was sitting behind the same purple-haired emo from yesterday.

"Is that your natural hair color?" The guy with the letterman jacket just started… playing with my hair.

Is this what everyone here is like…?

"Yeah…"

"It's gorgeous."

"Thanks."

"See? This is the color I want!"

"This is Thomas," the emo told me, getting his friend off of me. "He's almost too gay to function."

"Nice to meet you."

"Nice wig, Virgil." The guy who said that looked directly at the emo - Virgil? - "what's it made of, Barnie's unshaven armpits?"

"Your mom's chest hair, but I'm surprised you didn't notice the difference!"

And then, "I'm Virgil."

"Hi, I'm Logan. Do you guys know where room G14 is…?"

"Health, Tuesday/Thursday, room G14… I think that's in the back building."

The way Thomas looked at Virgil when he said that made me worry.

"Yeah, that's in the back building."

"We'll take you there."

* * *

 

"Health, Spanish…" Thomas was reading my schedule. "You're taking 12th-grade calculus?"

"Yeah. I like math."

" _Why_?"

"Because it's the same in every country."

"…that's beautiful. That guy is deep."

Needless to say, we didn't go to the back building. There was no back building. According to Virgil, it burned down in 1987.

"Won't we get in some sort of trouble for this?"

"Why would we get you in trouble?" Virgil gave me a weird look as he and Thomas sat down on the grass. Well… many reasons? "We're your friends."

Now, I know it's wrong to skip classes, but Virgil said we were friends, and I was in no position to pass up friends. I guess I'll never know what I missed on that first day of health class.

_("Don't have sex. Because you will get pregnant, and die. Don't have sex in the missionary position, don't have sex standing up, just don't do it. Promise? Okay, everybody take some rubbers.")_

"Why didn't they just keep homeschooling you?"

"They wanted me to get socialized."

"Oh, you'll get socialized, alright." What…? "A little slice like you."

"What are you talking about?"

"You're a regulation hottie."

"What…?"

"Own it. …In the name of all that is holy, will you look at Emile Picani's gym clothes?"

And with that, the topic - thankfully - changed.

"Of course all the Plastics are in the same gym class," Virgil groaned. Apparently it's a bad thing…?

I don't know.

"Who are the Plastics?"

Again with the looks.

"They're teen royalty," Thomas explained. "If North Shore was  _Us Weekly_ , they would always be on the front cover."

"That one there, that's Emile Picani."

Shorts shorter than sin and a tank top to match. Pastel pink hair. Nice glasses.

"One of the dumbest-" Thomas earned himself a glare from Virgil, for some reason. "Sorry. One of the slowest people you will ever meet."

…and apparently more of a thrower than a catcher, if his attempt of catching a football with his chest (was that even an attempt?) counts as evidence.

"Thomas sat next to him in English last year," Virgil said with a laugh. "Now, he knows big words, but…"

"He asked me how to spell orange."

"And that little one? That's Roman Prince."

Now, I can't pinpoint what about Virgil changed when he said that, but something did.

Long, dark hair. Tanned skin. (Latino? Probably Latino). Bright red crop top and white shorts (definitely not regulation). Also more of a thrower than a catcher, but then again, someone did just throw a football to his head.

"He's totally rich because his dad invented Toaster Strudel, and totally famous because he's been in some shows."

"Roman Prince knows everybody's business," Virgil cut in. Still that weird thing going on with him. "He knows everything about everyone."

"That's why his hair is so big. It's full of secrets."

"And evil takes human form in Remy Campbell." Virgil pointed at someone, relatively far from Roman.

Blonde hair. Aviators. Same brand of dangerously short clothes as his friends. A wide smile.

A giant cup of Teavana in his hand. I'm pretty sure that's not a thing you're allowed to bring to gym class.

"Don't be fooled," Virgil continued almost immediately. "Because he may seem like your typical selfish, backstabbing, slut-faced hoebag, but in reality, he is so much more than that."

"He's the queen bee," Thomas said just as Remy turned to kiss one of the guys that took him in. "The star. Those other two are just his little workers."

"Remy Campbell… how do I even begin to explain Remy Campbell?"

Well, I'll tell you how people in my school (not including Virgil or Thomas) would explain Remy Campbell.

  * "Remy Campbell is flawless."
  * "He has two Fendi purses and a silver Lexus." (She then proceeded to list all his belongings, which also include "every new iphone the moment it comes out". I still don't know why this is such important information.)
  * "I hear his hair's insured for ten thousand dollars."
  * "I hear he does car commercials. In Japan."
  * "His favorite movie is Varsity Blues."
  * "One time, he met Emma Watson on a plane. And she told him he was pretty."
  * "One time, he punched me in the face. It was awesome."



Yeah… I'm very concerned about that last one.

* * *

 

"He always looks fierce," Thomas told me later that day. "He always wins Spring Fling royalty."

"Who the fuck cares?"

"I care!" After a short face-making competition, Thomas turned back to me. "Every year, the seniors throw this dance for the underclassmen called The Spring Fling. And whomsoever is elected Spring Fling King and Queen automatically becomes head of the Student Activities Committee. And since I am an active member of the Student Activities Committee, I would say, yeah. I care."

"Wow, Thomas. You've truly out-gayed yourself."

Then Virgil handed me a sheet of paper.

"Here. This map is gonna be your guide at North Shore. Now, where you sit in the cafeteria is crucial because you got everybody there.

"You got your freshmen, ROTC guys, preps, JV jocks, Asian nerds, cool Asians, varsity jocks, unfriendly black hotties, girls who eat their feelings, girls who don't eat anything, desperate wannabes, burnouts, sexually active band geeks, the greatest people you will ever meet… and the worst. Beware of the Plastics."

 


	2. Phase 1 (Part 2)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> For the sake of it, I couldn't use "butter your muffin" as a euphemism. So I tried several others. And then I asked a friend of mine on tumblr. And they provided me with "glaze your eclair". So... yeah.

The Plastics sit at a table rather close to Thomas and Virgil. And now in different clothes. At least no one is showing their ass.

"Hey, we're doing a lunchtime survey of new students. Can you answer a few questions?"

The guy who asked that… well, not the prettiest, but passable.

_God, Logan, aren't you being super gay today._

"Sure."

"Is your eclair glazed?"

"Excuse me…?"

"Would you like us to assign someone to glaze your eclair?"

"Excuse me-"

"Is he bothering you?" Did… did Remy Campbell just speak to me?

He talks like a valley girl.

"Jason, why are you such a skeez?"

"I'm just being friendly."

"You were supposed to call me last night," Roman whispered. I swear I saw Virgil becoming extremely hurt at that moment.

"Jason, you do not come to a party at my house with Roman and then scam at some poor, innocent guy right in front of us three days later. He's not interested."

Then Remy turned to me.

"Are you gay?"

"Yeah."

"Do you want to have sex with him?"

"No, thank you."

"Then it's settled. So you can go shave your back now. Bye, Jason."

"Bitch…"

I was going to go sit with Virgil and Thomas, if not…

"Wait. Sit down." Remy smiled at me. Virgil and Thomas threw me some looks, but…

What could possibly be so bad, right? Remy can't possibly be pure evil…

"Seriously, sit down.

So I sat down.

"Why don't I know you?" Remy had a sweet tone to his voice. And he was drinking Teavana.  _Again_. How he got more Starbucks on a school day, I will never know.

"I'm new. I just moved here from Africa."

"What?"

"I used to be homeschooled."

"Wait. What?"

"My mom taught me at home-"

"No, no, I know what home-school is. I'm not retarded." Woah… did he just- "So you've actually never been to a real school before?" Umm… no… that's the meaning of homeschooled… "Shut up. Shut up!"

"I didn't say anything."

"Homeschooled. That's really interesting."

"Thanks…"

"But you're, like, really pretty." Okay…

"Thank you."

"So you agree?"

"What?"

"You think you're really pretty."

"Oh, I don't know-"

"Oh my god, I love your bracelet! Where did you get it?"

Virgil forgot to add, the attention span of goldfish.

"Oh, my mom made it for me."

"It's adorable."

"Oh, it's so fetch," Roman jumped right in.

"What is fetch?"

"Oh, it's like slang. From England."

"So if you're from Africa," Emile said, looking very confused. (His voice is adorable, by the way.) "And I'm assuming not South Africa, why are you white?"

Excuse… me…?

"Oh my god, Emile, you can't just ask people why they're white!"

"Could you give us some privacy for, like, one second?"

"Yeah, sure."

So I looked to Virgil and Thomas. Thomas mouthed "what are you doing?" Virgil was texting.

I honestly didn't know what I was doing either.

"Okay," Remy said right away. "You should just know that we don't do this a lot, so this is, like, a really huge deal."

"We wanna invite you to have lunch with us every day for the rest of the week!" Roman had a very wicked smile on his face when he said that.

What did I just get myself into…?

"Oh, it's okay-"

"Coolness. So we'll see you tomorrow."

"On Wednesdays," Emile said, "we wear pink!" Roman reached over Remy to ruffle Emile's hair.

Yeah… that might be a problem.

* * *

 

"Oh my god!" Virgil was laughing himself sore. "Okay, you have to do it, okay? And then you have to tell me all the horrible things that Remy says"

"Remy seems… sweet."

"Remy Campbell is not sweet. He's a scum-sucking road whore! He ruined my life!"

"He's fabulous but he's evil," Thomas added, coming out of the bathroom.

"You shouldn't be in here," a girl screeched as Thomas came out the door. And for a moment, he ran back in.

We could hear him scream "Oh my god, Danny DeVito, I love your work!"

Yes, it was as funny as it sounds.

"Why do you hate him?"

"What do you mean?"

"Remy. You seem to really hate him."

"Yes. What's your question?"

"Well, my question is, why?"

"Remy started this rumor that Virgil was-"

"Thomas! Shall we not?!"

I don't believe I've seen anything as scary as Virgil Thompson at that very moment.

"Now, look, this isn't about hating him, okay? I just think that it would be, like, a fun little experiment if you were to hang out with them, and then tell us everything that they say."

"What do we even talk about?" I doubt they'd like to talk about math.

"Hair products!"

"Shawn Mendes!"

"Is that a band?"

"Would you just do it? Please?"

"…okay, fine. Do you have anything pink?"

Virgil looked at me as if I had something on my face. Okay…

"No."

"Yes."

* * *

 

By eighth period, I was so happy to get to math class. I mean, I'm good at math. I understand math. Nothing in math class could mess me up.

Or so I thought.

"Hey, do you have a pencil I could borrow?"

I've only had one other crush in my life. His name was Nfume and we were five.

It didn't work out.

But this one hit me like a big, yellow school bus.

Meet Patton Graham. The guy who sits in front of me in math class. Tall. Blond. Beautiful blue eyes. Glasses very similar to mine. Wearing a light blue polo shirt with a gray cardigan tied over his shoulders.

"Logan! What do you say?"

He was…

"So cute…"

This was the moment when I messed up, big time. Because the whole class turned to stare at me.

"I mean, um, A sub N equals N plus one over four."

"That's right. That's good. Very good. Alright, let's talk about your homework…"

* * *

 

"Hey." My parents were sitting on the porch when I got home. Why they were on the porch… I have no idea. Maybe for me. Maybe because of me. "How was your second day?"

"Fine."

"Were people nice?"

Well… "No."

"Did you make any friends?"

"Yeah."

 


	3. Phase 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well... the plan was to have much more prinxiety in this than there is. But I couldn't fit it. So next phase will definitely compensate for that. I can assure you.

"I'm so sorry, sweetheart!" Roman was looming over the sink, trying his best not to stare at his boyfriend.

His very much shirtless boyfriend.

Roman knew how much Virgil loved his 7-Eleven slurpees. (Part of him liked the fact that his boyfriend was a less-homicidal version of JD.) But sadly, so did Remy. So when Remy told Roman to throw Virgil's slurpee at him… he couldn't argue against that.

It was Remy, after all.

But he isn't going to complain about his boyfriend being shirtless.

"It's perfectly fine, it was just a slurpee." Virgil gave Roman a smile that he would never be caught, dead or alive, giving to anyone. "Just… do you have a spare shirt?"

"Do you mind that it's Wednesday?"

* * *

 

Having lunch with the Plastics was like leaving the real world and entering "Popular World". And Popular World had a lot of rules.

"You can't wear a tank top two days in a row," Roman told me. "And we only wear track pants on Fridays."

Well… let's consider the issue with the statement. That day, both Remy and Roman were wearing jeans. Remy's blue, and Roman's white. Their shirts were pink, though.

And Emile… yeah. He was in a skirt.

"I mean, not just you. Like, any of us. Okay, like, if I was wearing track pants today, I would be sitting over there with the drama kids." Emile started giggling. "You think this is a joke? Drama club is not a joke."

"We know, Roman."

"Oh, and we always vote before we ask someone to eat lunch with us, because you have to be considerate of the rest of the group." Understandable. "Well, I mean, you wouldn't buy clothes without asking your friends first if they look good on you."

"I wouldn't?"

"Right. Oh, and it's the same with guys." I think this was when Roman's leg started jumping. "Like, you may think you like someone, but you could be wrong."

And then Roman looked at Virgil. Who was playing with a pair of aviators. Well… if I had to guess…

"A hundred and twenty calories, and forty-eight calories from fat…" So Remy could read labels. Nice. "What percent is that?"

"Forty-eight into one-twenty…?"

"I'm only eating foods with less than 30% calories from fat."

"It's 40%." The confused looks I got from Remy and Roman were… weird. Let's call them weird. "Well, 48 over 120 equals X over 100, and then you cross-multiply and get the value of X."

"…whatever. I'm getting cheese fries."

Sure, Remy. Sure.

As soon as Remy got away, though… Roman started talking. "So, have you seen any guys that you think are cute yet?"

"We're all gay here," Emile said. I think to himself. I hope to himself.

"Well…" Better be honest. "There's this guy in my calculus class-"

"Who is it?"

"It's a senior?" Yes, Roman. It's a senior.

"His name's Patton Graham."

If I had to compare this moment to anything… it would probably be a bomb drop. Roman started a chorus of "no"s, with Emile joining in every now and again.

"Oh no, you can't like Patton Graham!"

The literal angel descended from heaven to grace this world with his beauty and overall being? Sure. Why? Can you explain why, Roman? Huh? You wanna try an explanation, bitch?

"That's Remy's ex-boyfriend."

Oh.

"They went out for a year." Thankfully, this was said by Emile. Roman's voice was starting to annoy me.

"Yeah." And… we're back. "And he was devastated when Patton broke up with him last summer."

"I thought he dumped him for Ollie Hendricks."

"Okay, irregardless. Ex-boyfriends are just off-limits to friends. I mean, that's just, like… the rules of feminism. Or something."

I swear I heard Virgil snort.

"Don't worry. I'll never tell Remy what you said. It'll be our little secret."

I seriously doubted it.

* * *

 

"We define the sum of the infinite geometric series…"

Even though I wasn't allowed to like Patton, I was still allowed to look at him. And think about him. And talk to him.

"Hey, Pat-"

"Hey, you're the Africa guy, right?" A guy (who, to be fair, looks like a top hat would just fit him perfectly, he's just that kind of creepy) asked me. As I was going to talk to Patton.

Rude much?

"Yeah."

"I'm Dorian Pechmann, captain of the North Shore Mathletes. We participate in math challenges against other high schools around the state, and we're missing a member. You should think about joining."

"Oh, you'd be perfect for it!" Our teacher - Ms. Torres - jumped in.

"Yeah, definitely."

"Great, great. Let me give you my card!"

This guy has a card…?

‘ _Dorian Pechmann - Math Enthusiast/Bad-ass M.C._ '

It even includes his phone number. Lovely.

"Okay, so… think it over. Cause we'd like to actually compete this year."

Okay…

* * *

 

Patton actually almost talked to me later that day, if only Remy didn't pull up near the football field and screamed "get in, loser, we're going shopping!"

Remy is like the Barbie doll I never had. I'd never seen anybody so glamorous.

"So how do you like North Shore?" Emile asked me in the mall.

"It's good. I think I'm joining the mathletes."

And again with the booming chorus of no.

"You cannot do that," Remy said. Incredibly harsh for a valley girl. "This is social suicide. Damn, you are so lucky you have us to guide you!"

And then Roman spaced out. And I could see why. Over in the shop we were passing…

There was Virgil.

I was starting to suspect more and more.

Being at Old Orchard Mall kind of reminded me of being home in Africa. By the watering hole. When the animals are in heat.

"Oh my god there's Jason!"

"Where? …oh, there he is."

"And he's with Taylor Wedell!"

Remember Jason? From the cafeteria? Yeah. The poor person he was now picking up…

Was a girl.

"I heard they're going out."

"Wait…" Remy's smirk grew into a vicious smile. If we can call it that. "Jason's not going out with Taylor. No. He cannot blow you off like that. He's such a little skeez. Give me your phone."

"You're not gonna call him… right?"

"Do you think I'm an idiot?"

"No."

It took Remy exactly three seconds to dial up a number -  _how exactly?_  - and ask for "Wedell on South Boulevard."

"Caller ID-"

"Not when you connect from Information." And then, "Hello, may I please speak to Taylor Wedell?"

I swear his voice became more feminine when he said that.

"Oh, this is Susan from Planned Parenthood. I have her test results. If you could have her give me a call as soon as she can. It's urgent. Thank you!"

And then, "she's not going out with anyone."

"Okay," Roman said, finally smiling. "That was so fetch!"

It took just a couple seconds after that for Taylor Wedell to run away screaming.

* * *

 

Remy's house was bigger than I have ever known a house to be. His step-mom was incredibly plastic-y, like a tv trophy wife or something, and his sister - oh god, his sister! His poor, sweet, innocent preteen sister - was watching MTV.

I honestly don't think the content was entirely age appropriate.

His step-mom also offered us drinks that could have passed for alcoholic, which was even more worrying for a second.

But his room…

"It was my parents' room," Remy told me. "But I made them trade me."

Bitch…

Even worse, bitch who flaunts around his ex-boyfriends. Like all the pictures of Patton he has hanging on his door.

"Logan, do you even know who sings this?" Remy asked me about the music that was playing on the radio.

"Umm… One Direction?"

"Oh my god, I love him! He's like a Martian!"

Is that a… compliment…?

"God, my hips are huge!" Emile was checking himself out in the mirror… why?

Is that what friends do…? Gay people as a whole…? What?

"Oh please, I hate my calves." Something about Roman's tone sounded incredibly fake.

"At least you guys don't have huge shoulders."

I used to think there was just fat and skinny. Apparently, there's a lot of things that can be wrong about your body.

And so, after listing about eleven hundred things that are wrong about their bodies, they turned to me. Expected me to talk.

Well… "I have really bad breath in the morning."

"…ew."

And then, "Oh my god, I remember this!" Emile was holding a pink album.

‘ _The Burn Book._ '

"I haven't looked at that in forever! Come check it out, Logan!"

"It's our Burn Book," Roman told me. "See, we cut out pictures of people from the yearbook, mostly girls, sometimes also guys, and then we wrote comments."

" _Trang Pak is a grotsky little bitch._ " "Still true!"

" _Dawn Schweitzer is a fat virgin._ " "Still half true!"

" _Amber d'Alessio masturbated with a hot dog._ "

"Virgil Thompson," Emile read out. "Stoner."

Wait, what?

"Who is that?"

"I think it's that kid Thomas," Roman said. His voice still sounded… well, off.

"Yeah. He's almost too gay to function."

"Ha, that's funny! Put that in there."

Oh no. What have I done. Maybe that was only okay when Virgil said it.

* * *

 

"And they have this book, this Burn Book, where they write mean things about a lot of people in our grade."

Virgil looked incredibly enthusiastic. Maybe a bit too much for the situation.

"What does it say about me?"

That you're a stoner. "You're not in it."

"Those assholes." He seemed to enjoy it far too much.

"Will this minimize my pores?" Thomas was holding a tube of… whatever cream that was.

"No. Logan, you gotta steal that book."

"No way!"

"Oh, come on! We could publish it and then everybody would see what a dick he really is!"

"I don't steal."

"That is for your feet!" Virgil literally snatched the new cream from Thomas' hands the second he brought it up. "Logan, there are two kinds of evil people. People who do evil stuff, and people who see evil stuff being done and don't try to stop it."

"Does that mean I'm morally obligated to burn that lady's outfit?"

Thomas really shouldn't have said that, probably.

"Oh my god, that's Ms. Torres."

"I love seeing teachers outside of school! It's like seeing a dog walk on its hind legs!"

"Oh, hey, guys," Ms. Torres called as she came to the counter. "What's up? I didn't know you worked here."

"Yeah, moderately priced soaps are my calling."

"You shopping?"

"No, no. I'm just here with my boyfriend." Yeah… literally the only other customer in the shop. "Joking. Sometimes older people make jokes."

"My nana takes her wig off when she's drunk."

"Your nana and I have that in common," she deadpanned. "No, actually I'm just here because I bartend a couple nights a week down at P.J. Calamity's. Logan, I hope you do join Mathletes, you know. Because we start in a couple weeks."

"I think I'm gonna do it."

"Great!"

"You can't join Mathletes, it's social suicide!" Thomas rushed to say.

"Thanks, Thomas." And then, "well… this has been sufficiently awkward. And I'll see you guys tomorrow."

"Oh man, that is bleak," Virgil sighed when Ms. Torres left. "So, when are you gonna see Remy again?"

"I can't spy on him anymore. It's weird."

"Come on, he's never gonna find out! It's just… it'll be like our little secret!"

Okay then…


End file.
